Secessionist
by Cinnamon Sin
Summary: Draco must find himself in order to piece back the fragments of his once wealthy and formidable life years after Lord Voldemort falls. One day he picks up a camera and his world changes forever once again. This story excludes the Epilogue.
1. Chapter 1: Opening the Box

It had started off as a joke. Or at least it was assumed it had been a joke. Why else would Blaise Zabini send his oldest friend a Muggle camera? Yes. A Muggle camera. This contraption would not lend itself to producing the moving photographs all wizards had grown up seeing, small identical images of people they knew waving up at them as if they were alive. What the hell would Draco Malfoy want with a ruddy Muggle camera?

In truth, it was not as if this was a random package that had been sent to him to out of the blue. Draco had an inkling this sort of thing was going to come his way at some point. Unlike most purebloods, Blaise was not against the Muggle world. He found that several things of value could be enjoyed and should not be overlooked. Naturally, Draco thought his childhood friend insane. Muggles were filth. What good could they possibly make that any wizard would want to be a part of? Blaise made sure to give Draco several answers to that question. For a year after their graduation Blaise dragged Draco to all types of Muggle establishments he considered worthy. Everything from fine dining to shoppes and even museums were not omitted from their excursions. Although Draco did enjoy the food and fine material objects, none of this was really different from anything wizards produced. Draco found he actually looked forward to the artist-inspired trips. He found that it was something that had oddly been lacking in his life. The art he most enjoyed was by far from the Modern era. It was not like the paintings or busts in the Manor. These Modernist artworks had a different type of life, color and meaning to them. These were the best parts of his meaningless days.

Sadly his family had been blacklisted soon after Voldemort had fallen along with his Death Eaters. Sad, simply because for the first time in his life Draco felt truly lost and out of place. Though funds had been seized in the name of retribution his family was not exactly hurting for money. What they were lacking now was the prestige they had once garnered among their wizard kind. The Malfoy name was tarnished and as black as the supposed heart of his father. Draco found himself looking at family portraits of the three of them and wondering things that had never popped into his head before. Why am I here? What is the point of my existence? Who cares if I am gone?

That last question could have been answered easily enough. Pansy Parkinson had been annoying the life out of him with letters and pesky questions. She had no idea how to handle Draco in times when he was stressed. Her pestering only served to dig herself a hole and alienate him more. He hated Pansy for that fault. Then he ended up feeling guilty about his hate for her ignorance. Blaise was more astute in guessing his friend's needs. Instead of bombarding Draco with questions Blaise had focused on taking his friend out of the Manor and into participating in something other than self loathing. Thank Merlin for Blaise.

Though Draco found himself questioning Blaise and whatever thoughts roamed in his head when packages showed up with letters attached-letters that informed him, very specifically, what Draco should do with the contents. It was strange, but Blaise had never been an ordinary pureblood wizard, so the camera in its minimally marked packaging with instructions was not a stretch. Draco had to admit there was something alluringly taboo about the Muggle camera. The art and photography books had been one thing. Books were just that, books. They were just pages and the coverings could be changed accordingly. Lucius Malfoy would not go insane over a few books. This... camera however, that was something else entirely. Perhaps it was not just the physical object that seemed more taboo than all the rest. It was what the camera asked him to do. He no longer could simply look. No. He had to create, be proactive.

It was a strange concept for Draco, one he did not take to very well at first. Two days after he received the camera it had sat in a dark corner of his closet where it was sure not to be stumbled upon. After those two days Draco seemed mildly satisfied the Manor was not going to swallow him whole for having the Muggle object. He had yet to actually handle it, and it was only when he was sure everyone in the manor was asleep did he remove the camera from his hiding place and began to investigate what it could actually do, not to mention what he could do with it.

Draco found himself utterly enthralled. He had never had something like this before. All through his childhood and on into his adolescence he had never been a denied boy. His toys had been the best. His clothes the finest. The list really could go on if he chose to think about it. In all his materialistic things he had never had anything that came close to the camera. Over the following weeks, turned months, it became his most treasured possession. He went through rolls and rolls of film and subjected Blaise to mounds and mounds of photographs. Draco refused to even look at the prints. This could have been attributed to fear. Fear that what he was doing was not any good or that staring at his own prints was the final and most absolute admission of his guilt in taking part in Muggle behavior. Either way it was not until Blaise finally convinced Draco to look at his photographs that he realized he was pretty good at it. And why wouldn't he be? He was a Malfoy, after all. They naturally excelled in whatever they had an interest in.

Draco's interest was now invested in photography, so much so that his father had begun to be a bit suspicious, which was only fed by his mother's worry over Draco spending so much time alone. In fact, Draco was so invested in this new endeavor that had brought light back into his life he could not just throw it away for fear of his father's reaction. No. He had to find a way to continue to take his photographs. He couldn't simply quit with a shrug and the thought that it had been an interesting few months. Draco began to devise himself a plan. Firstly, he would need himself a plausible excuse to be out of the manor during the day, an excuse that could be easily followed and kept up. His mother had been on him about finding something to spend his days doing, and knowing that she was a better source for getting around his father than anything else, he employed his best 'oh mother please' face. Narcissa had never been able to deny her only baby boy anything he desired. Had she known exactly what he desired that might have been a different story, but as it was now she assumed he had wanted to get himself a job in the exchange business. Blaise had helped set it up with his uncle Calix, who was in the business already and well respected, so all it needed was her official green light. It was the perfect cover.

He created himself something of a double life. Before now he had never been able to photograph models. The only thing in the Manor had been House Elves, a thought he had promptly scoffed at. All his photographs had been still life. Interesting, but he had to admit, lacking. Now that he could photograph outside of the Manor the problem was remedied. He found himself a flat in Muggle London that was soon turned into a studio. Ads went into the paper asking for models. A strict screening process was to be put into place to ensure none of them could know who Draco was, as that would easily crumble his whole scheme. He also might have just been a bit paranoid too. Weren't artists supposed to be self indulgent, if not eccentric? He told himself yes. Draco Malfoy became Thuban Hawthorn, or, more simply, TH. He was free to take pictures as he wanted now. Through his own process and creative imagination he held two successful shows in six months' time. His last show was just about to be taken down and then it was back to the studio and a new set of models. He never used the same model twice, a personal rule.

This was no joke now. Draco took himself seriously. As seriously as a wizard posing as a Muggle photographer could, anyhow. His newest show idea he hoped would be his best. Or perhaps his most interesting, as it would center around masks. Each model would be given a mask of his own design to wear. Not only that, but their other garments would be nearly nonexistent. The idea was to show that even if you wear a mask to protect your identity, you actually expose yourself more, a deep thought few people who actually knew Draco Malfoy would not have associated him with. Despite what many people thought, he was not all ego and arrogance. The fall of his family had seen to that. It was no use now. The box to his life was open and the Draco Malfoy his friends, or even his enemies, had known was changing into a new person completely.


	2. Chapter 2: Money Problems

"What? You can't be serious. I - no- but you see. I just- Please, couldn't I get an extension?"

Ginny Weasley was on her cell phone in the process of pacing around her flat, about five seconds away from flailing her arms around in frustration. A pair of concerned blue eyes followed her as she angrily rounded her braided floor rug for what had to be the thirtieth time since the phone call had started. Seamus Finnigan was probably the last person Ginny would have expected to be her best friend.

A loud snapping noise signaled the end of the phone conversation as Ginny flipped her phone shut with a growl. Seamus sat up straighter on Ginny's loveseat and waited for her to actually turn to him. He knew her well enough to see that when she was in this sort of fluster letting her speak first was always best.

"They won't even give me an extension. They said I have had two so far and another is not worth their time. What am I supposed to do? I can't take out another loan, so I can't get the money and if I can't get the money then I miss the start of Uni and I'll be behind." Frowning, she paced a few more times around her rug before plopping herself onto the couch. "What am I going to do?" She leaned her head on Seamus' shoulder and closed her eyes in a defeated manner. Apparently she was past the tirade phase of her mood now. That was good.

"So they won't give ye another extension. How much time do ye have before te money is due?" Seamus was trying very hard to be logical about this. Ginny could be erratic enough for the both of them. What they needed was a plan of some sort.

"I have two weeks."

Seamus could hear the defeat in her voice and it damped even his usually highly optimistic spirits. There had to be a solution. There was one for every sort of problem. Finding it was merely the hardest part. Ginny's money solution had to be here somewhere. "What about asking yer boss fer an advance?" He turned his head to her direction.

"I've already done that, I can't ask for me. He was already unhappy." She sighed.

"Well dinna sound so pathetic. Ye've already given up! We'll figure something out, Gin. Even if I have to give ye te money myself."

"No, Seamus!" She sat up and turned to face him directly, a refusal clear in her expression. "I don't want you to do that. You're saving that money for you and Dean. I won't take it." There had been plenty of conversations about Seamus lending her money. She also knew that finances could be a strain on a relationship. Forcing that sort of problem into Seamus and Dean's was not something she wanted to be responsible for. Besides, she wanted to be independent as much as possible. She wanted to live alone, she wanted to pay her own rent, pay her own schooling and live her own way. It also was not as if she could ask her parents for money. She was more uncomfortable with that than anything else.

"Alright, alright, I just wanted te offer." Seamus slumped down into his seat and propped his feet up on the coffee table that sat in the middle of the rug Ginny had been pacing around. Silence settled as they both thought, until Seamus' eyes fell on yesterday's paper. "Gin! I have te perfect solution." The sudden excitement in his voice appeared to have startled his redheaded friend wide eyed. "TH!" He could see the confusion clouding her face. "Thuban Hawthorn? The hottest photographer of te moment? Oh fer Merlin's sake, woman, ye work in a cafe in the art district, how do ye ni know who this is?"

"I have better things to do than eavesdrop, Shay! Even if I knew who it was, how is Hawthorn supposed to help me? I need money, not to have my picture taken."

Seamus was grinning in a way that Ginny swore was not unlike the Twins when they knew something hilarious and not telling you only added to the hilarity of it all.

"I know yer ni this daft," he said, still grinning. "He pays his models quite well, I heard. Bit of an odd one, so maybe te money makes up fer his eccentricities." He shrugged slightly. "Te point, Gin, is that he's looking fer models now. He's probably shootin' next week. If ye get te money up front you can make yer deadline! It's brilliant!"

Ginny didn't know what to think. The thought that first came to mind was how ludicrous the whole idea was. Still, it wasn't like she had a lot of options and her time was quickly running out. "So what's the catch?"

"What do ye mean?" Seamus titled his head curiously.

"I mean, there has to be more than just sitting down and getting my picture taken. You said he was odd.. what's wrong with him?" Her eyes narrowed just a bit.

"Well nothing like ye make it sound." Seamus rubbed the back of his neck lightly. "He doesn't use te same models more than once and he likes te keep his identity as hidden as possible. Whatever he is shooting is supposed te be as well received as his last shows. I dinna see what te problem is, Gin. Yer a gorgeous girl, it's ni like your going te be turned down."

Ginny found herself with slightly hot cheeks. Flattery had generally made her uncomfortable, even when it came from her gay best friend. Even so, there seemed to be something Seamus was holding back from her.

"There is one thin' ye might ni like."

"And that is?" Ginny raised a brow.

"He tends te photograph nudes."

Her jaw dropped as she jumped up from her seat. "I have to be naked? No, Seamus. I don't care how much I need the money. Do you know what that sort of thing would do to my parents if they found out? Let alone Ron. Harry would die knowing I let some random bloke take naked pictures of me. Are you insane?" She started pacing again.

"Calm down, Gin! There's a difference between nude an' naked. Nudes have always been in art! It's not pornography.. it's art!"

"I don't care what it is, I won't do it!"

"Fine. Ye can't go back te school an' all the hard work ye've done will mean less because ye're actin' like a prude."

Ginny turned on Seamus as she rounded the coffee table again. "I am not a prude!"

"Well, ye ar' actin' like one right now."

She didn't have any quips in reply other than to plop herself down on the couch again and cross her arms in silence.

"Look, G." Seamus turned to her, speaking in his kindest tone. "I ken it's a weird idea, but I think it could work. It's te easiest thing, an' I can even go with ye if that makes you feel better. I think it will be te best solution fer now. If ye had more time it could be something else."

Ginny didn't say a word or make a sound for a while. The idea was more than strange. Not merely the idea, but presenting the idea to other people. She doubted Harry would enjoy having his girlfriend being photographed naked or nude. It was probably all the same thing to him. Ron would be even worse as there was no convincing him of anything once he saw something a certain way.

"Alright, Seamus, but this is just between you and me. You cannot even tell Dean."

"Ye have mi word. Not a single soul will hear from me." Seamus grinned.


	3. Chapter 3: Pass or Fail

To say that she was nervous would have been an understatement. Ginny never knew her nerves could be so wracked. Especially by such a little pip-squeak of a man. No, he was more of a boy. To think this _Hawthorn_ person wasn't even interviewing his own models! Somehow that just leached arrogance. Maybe that was why Ginny never got into art of any kind. (Artists had huge egos..or so she heard.) That and it was not as if art was ever really around the Burrow. She had other things to worry about. Things she wanted to do.

"Well Miss Brown.."

Ginny was shaken from her inner thoughts by the hurriedly thought up name she had given. Mary Brown. It had seemed generic enough and it had been accepted as fact without a second glance in her direction at first. With her thoughts dispersed her attention went to the short dark haired assistant that had now begun staring at her in a way she felt inept. Something she had always hated.

"Come this way and well take a few quick shots since you haven't come with any. If you're chosen you'll get a call in a couple of days."

About twenty minutes later Ginny was on her way home with the distinct feeling she had just wasted her time. It was disheartening since she needed the money and Seamus had made it sound so easy. She reflected on the experience as she made her way back to her small flat. He actually hadn't seemed interested in her face at all. Why else would one of the requirements been to wear a neutral mask that covered the central part of her facial features? Maybe it was that this Hawthorn person wanted his models to be as anonymous as himself. Ginny really couldn't complain. She _had_ wanted no one to identify her. Even if it was in a couple of head and body shots. At least her failure when it came could be swept under the rug all the more easily.

"Just walk in." She muttered to herself as she rounded a street corner. "It'll be easy." She snorted at the thought and made the rest of her way home to make herself some dinner. She had specifically told anyone that asked she was going to be far to tired to see anyone that night. A precaution that had turned out to be a good idea.

One day passed and she had hoped her phone would ring with good news. Obviously that was not going to happen. On the dawn of the second day her hopes were still high. She'd actually done some research on her potential paycheck and found that Seamus had been correct in everything he had told her. She had even taken time to look at reproductions in the paper on past shows. She wasn't sure if they were exactly to her taste. A some places they seemed so.. ordinary. As if he had caught his subject in a way that was completely natural to them. The problem was the papers hardly had the examples she found herself looking for. Eventually she made it to a local bookshop and found a copy of TH's latest work. Apparently it dealt with the meanings of flowers and colors. True enough, in these pictures just as the last, every single model was scantily clad and seeming completely natural. They didn't seem _naked_. There was no embarrassment or shyness in these photos. They were (she hated to admit) breathtakingly beautiful. These were not women without their clothes. Oh, these were goddesses.

So taken into the photographs Ginny literally jumped when her phone rang. She dug in her purse and fished for it without removing her eyes from the book.

"Hello?" She said absently once she'd managed to find it.

"Ginny?"

She snapped the book closed and shoved it on the shelf as soon as she heard the familiar tone. It was Harry's voice on the other end. A strange sense of guilt nibbled at the back of her mind. As if touching the TH book was going to give her away.

"Yeah, Harry. It's me." Who else would be answering her cell phone?

"Are you coming to lunch? We're waiting for you. Figured you'd lost track of the time."

She glanced down at the watch around her wrist. Shit! She hadn't realized she'd wasted so much time in the book shoppe. She cast a wary eye at the book which had held her under its spell for so long.

"I didn't realize. I'm on my way now. Meet you lot in a bit."

"Alright Gin. Love you, see you in a bit."

"Love you too, bye."

Ginny snapped her phone shut and gave it only a glance as she put it back in her purse. Harry's so familiar voice was distant again as she took the book from the shelf. She didn't dare open it for fear of losing more time. She did however make a quick purchase and on her way out of the store, where no one was looking cast a sending charm to have the book appear in her flat. No sense carrying it to lunch with Harry, Ron and Hermione. She might get something past the boys but Hermione was always a little too astute. It was annoying if you ever had to hide anything. It was no doubt a good thing that Ron never did.

She caught herself a taxi and two hours later she had managed to have a very normal lunch. Ordinary in every regard. She had chatted about work and how she was. Asked questions and spurred conversation as far from herself and the issues of money as possible. She was hoping to pull extra shifts at the cafe. At the end she had hugged her brother and Hermione then kissed Harry before they all parted ways.

As Ginny entered her building she made a single stop to check her mail. Just the regular bills which made her sigh. More things which needed money she didn't exactly have. As she came to her door she paused in an awestruck manner. Sticking into the doorjamb was a milky white envelope addressed to Miss Brown. The script it was written in was completely foreign to her. Maybe this is what made her gingerly remove it from its place.

Quickly she entered her flat and closed the door behind it, waving her hand to lock it. Carelessly she tossed everything in her arms onto her love seat couch so her hands could be completely free to turn the letter over in her hands. Anticipation with a mix of dread began to build up inside her stomach. She knew that if she did not open it the feeling would only worsen. Despite all her ginger attempts to handle the letter it was now she partially tore it apart. It could solve her dilemma in one fell swoop. This could be the answer to her problem! In a flash the three fold letter was open in her hands. Dark brown eyes read as fast as they could go. She screamed.

_Miss Brown,_

_You have been selected to model on Tuesday of the coming week. You are to show up at the studio address at 7 A.M. for your shoot preparations and signing of contracts. Do not feel the need to bring anything or anyone with you. My studio and photo shoots are always closed. If you can agree to these terms and remain interested call to confirm. _

_T.H._

She read the letter over twice to make sure she had read it right in the fist place. Of course she hated the tone of it all but she didn't care at this moment. She had been chosen and better yet her problems were solved! One day of work was going to put her in the black and help her when she needed it most. There was the natural part of her that was a bit smug. She had no idea how many other girls had been turned down. A tiny sense of pride, or perhaps accomplishment, rose in her chest. She had been _picked._

Ginny went to bed with a clear mind that night. Her money troubles would be gone and things would be headed in the direction they should be.


	4. Chapter 4: Just Shoot Me

Getting up at six o'clock in the morning was really not a problem for Ginny. She had been an early riser as a child and the notion never seemed to leave her. The day she was due to arrive at TH's studio she had woken up at four o'clock and feeling anxious. She took her time getting ready. There was no rush through her shower or her breakfast. Even so, she felt like time was dragging on and with each minute her anxiety only grew larger. To settle her nerves she went into her bedroom and pulled open the bottom drawer of her dresser to dig the Hawthorn book out. She sat on her newly made bed, wrinkling the covers, but caring little. Gently, she pulled the book open, skipping the title and content pages and going straight for the photographs. Generally she was a girl that knew what she wanted and went after it. What she wanted at this moment was some reassurance she was not about to do something utterly crazy. Looking at these exquisite photos helped to calm her nerves and assure her of the abilities of the artist. A man who could take photographs like this could not be horrible.

She glanced at the clock and saw the time. Realizing if she did not hurry she was going to be late, she replaced the book into its hiding place, grabbed her purse on the way to the door and locked it on her way out. She hailed herself a car and informed the driver of the address. When the car came to a stop she swallowed the lump in her throat and gathered her nerve as she paid the driver his fee. The building she had been directed to seemed nothing special at all, mostly brick and rather old looking with a few iron embellishments here and there on window sills or the rare small balcony. It hardly seemed like a place to create art. Then again, what did she know? Ginny set her jaw as she walked up the steps to the main door. Here goes nothing, she thought with a slightly grim tone echoing in her head.

Ginny noticed an intercom panel next to the building's door. Pushing the one for 3C a voice soon crackled over the intercom demanding to know what she wanted. It sounded like the assistant she had met before. A bit startled by his quick demanding tone she had nearly given her real name but managed to save herself the embarrassment of not appearing to not know who she was.

"Ah, Miss Brown. On time. Brilliant." A moment later a buzzing was heard and she could open the door.

The studio was not hard to find at all. The minute she entered the building she was met with a flight of stairs, and since the full address noted the studio was at 3C, it was to the third floor she traveled and down to door 'C'. With the determination she had gathered before entering the building, she raised her hand to knock. A moment later the door opened and it was the same squat man-boy that had interviewed her in the first place. Ginny was beginning to think this was Hawthorn and he had some sort of split personality problem.

"Right this way."

He hardly seemed happy about it, and she resisted the urge to make a face at him that either would have gotten her a funny look or a sharp remark to stop acting like an idiot. Either way, Mr. Man-boy was leading her into the studio, which just appeared to be a flat that had been converted into a more open studio-like space. To say the inside of this room reflected the outside of the building would have been an utter and complete lie. The windows that had looked small and uninviting were much larger and could flood the room with light when the heavy dark curtains were pulled back. As it was, in this moment only the nearest windows were free of their drapery and the back of the studio was enigmatic, if not for the lack of light, but the partitions that could be used as movable walls. There was no sign of TH, not as if she could recognize him anyway. His artist books were free of any pictures of him, and now that she thought about it none of the articles about him had his picture either. It was quite odd, something she remembered Seamus mentioning first off. She'd have to remember to Floo him when all of this was over.

Directly to the left of the door was a small office-looking area. It was here she was handed a stack of papers.

"First off, we'll need you to look over and sign an agreement. Standard things, mostly. It states that you are to be paid for the day's work at the end of the session and the artist retains the rights to his work. If you wish for any copies, arrangements can be made, but you will need to mention it now or not at all. If you chose to have copies at a later date you will pay the regular buyer fee, so of course now is the better time. If for some reason you are unhappy with the shoot you are free to leave at any time, but any photos taken prior may be used regardless. The moment you sign these contracts you are saying that you understand them and agree to all their terms. I didn't mention everything, so be sure to read them through. Coffee?"

Ginny found herself blinking at the papers instead of taking the rest of the studio in. The assistant talked so fast she believe she had only heard half of what he said.

"Uh, yes, please. Cream if you have it." She got a nod and off he went to the kitchen on the other side of the room. Alone, she looked through the papers in her hands. They seemed perfectly reasonable and really, for the sum he was paying, there was little for her to complain about, even if she felt like signing these papers would somehow be wrong, as if it somehow affected her soul. By the time her coffee was set down to her right she had signed "Mary Brown" upon the contracts and they were taken away.

"This way to hair and makeup," she was told loftily.

Ginny followed like some sort of lost puppy. Strictly speaking, she was not the feminine sort. Gossip and makeup were not high on her list of things to take place in. If she wore any makeup at all, it was often some type of neutral lip gloss and possibly an eye shadow. What would you expect from someone who had grown up in a house full of boys, and her closest girlfriend considered loafers to be the most sensible and fashionable shoe available? Not much in the way of fashion, that is for sure. When she was sat into the lone salon chair she mentally told her heart to calm itself. With the same nerve calming exercises she used before a Quidditch game, she was soon perfectly relaxed. A couple of hours later the stylist was finished with her and sent her toward the changing area, where a white robe lay waiting. She had no trouble switching her clothes for the robe, but wondered what it was going to be like to get rid of it.

"Miss Brown. He's ready when you are." Man-boy had been waiting on her.

With a steadying breath she exited the changing room and was met with the assistant for a final time. This time he held out for her a mask-powder blue with the most intricate swirling detail of silver inlaid.

"Put this on and enter through there."

She was pointed toward an opening into the darker area of the studio. At least there was no natural light from the windows allowed to shine. Ginny nodded and took the mask, carefully putting it on and adjusting it to fit her face. Remarkably, it fit perfectly as her fingers felt along the mask's lines that covered most of her forehead and down to her cheeks. Making sure to take steady steps, she entered through the makeshift doorway, and what she saw amazed her.

It was simple yet complex in the same way. Soft light played on a deep red lounging chaise. Vases of several sizes were painstakingly arranged to create the background, each of these filled with flowers giving the entire area a natural perfumed scent. The light, she realized, was from candles and a different type of curtain that covered one of the windows along the wall.

"Take a seat on the chaise, please, and remove your robe. There is some fabric laid out to drape around yourself."

The voice had startled her, and Ginny snapped her head in that direction, only to be met with the back of a blond head of a taller than average man she now assumed to be TH. He was paying more attention to his camera on a tripod than her at the moment. She noticed then that a second camera was on a nearby table. She did as she had been instructed. It was easier than she imagined to disrobe. Then again, she was doing so without watchful eyes. For that she was thankful. Settling herself onto the sofa was harder than she anticipated. Firstly, she felt ridiculous. Secondly, embarrassed. She had draped the section of diaphanous fabric around herself as best she could. The nature of the sofa required that she lean and so her legs were forced to stretch out along its full length.

"Alright," she announced when she was finished fussing about with herself. TH turned around and Ginny practically had a heart attack as she sat up with a jerk.

"Miss Brown, is it? This will go a lot easier if you relax. Milton mentioned you have never modeled before. And lean back as you were, unless something is wrong."

Still in shock from seeing a face she thought she would never see again, she did as she was told. Draco Malfoy! It couldn't be! Surely not. Posing as some Muggle artist... what for? It was some strange case of twins. Yes. That had to be it.

"Put your left arm up on the arm of the chair. No. Your other left. Yes, stay there," he drawled with slight annoyance. No. That was definitely Malfoy. That drawl could only be connected to one pointy, pale blond twit.

She switched her arms accordingly and stayed still. She had two options: stay or go. As it was, he apparently had no idea who she was, didn't seem to have any type of clue she was not Mary Brown. And she really needed the money, a powerful motivator. Her resolve hardened as she decided to stay, and possibly find out anything useful. "So what do you do this for anyway?"

"I'd prefer it if you kept conversation to a minimum. If you want an interview you'll have to make a separate appointment." His sarcasm was dry.

Ginny scoffed and it caused a smirk which only made her narrow her eyes, and glance toward the window.

"Stay there." He instructed.

It was hard to freeze yourself on command. It actually took quite a bit of concentration. She could not see him from this angle. All she could hear was the snapping noise the camera made. And then the snaps became louder and spaced farther apart. Try as she might to stay where she was, when the snap was closer to herself than previously, her head jerked and she was caught surprised by how close he was. Her surprise was clear in her eyes and the small parting of her lips. The camera snapped again. Her lips pressed into a loose line. The camera lowered and his face was now visible, taking in her form in a calculating way. It was odd to be under that gaze; even though it was not glaring, it was not hate-filled or accompanying some snide remark.

"Move your right hand to across your stomach... and hold the cloth there." He paused to look at her and adjusted the see-through fabric to get some better folds, and in a final touch brushed some of her curled hair over one shoulder.

Ginny held her breath to keep from acting in some way. What way she would have acted she had no idea. The camera snapped again and she let out a breath. The long minutes that followed were full of silence, save for the shutter snapping. It was Draco that spoke first, after telling her to adjust yet another thing and then to hold still.

"You should have started modeling sooner."

"What?" She rose a brow in confusion, as he had just breeched his no conversation rule, though that could have been a sarcastic rule only.

"Modeling. You've got a beautiful face and figure. I'm surprised this is the first time you've ever done anything, considering your look."

She wanted to snort a laugh. Her look. "I've had better things to do. It's never something that's crossed my mind, anyway."

"Sit up and come stand by the window. Yes. Wrap the cloth around you more. There." The snapping continued as the only noise until he spoke again. "So you've what? Lost those better things to do? Or let me guess, the money was a little too good and you need it."

Ginny didn't like that he had guessed so easily. So he wasn't an idiot. That didn't mean she wanted him nosing about. "How about you answer my question. Why this? Photography?" She adjusted herself and ended up sitting on the windowsill, though she had a hand waved at her to adjust her position yet again.

"It's given me something I was missing," he replied as he snapped away again. "Something I never realized I needed. I supposed it's given me my life back."

She had not expected him to answer so honestly. The truth of it was in his voice, and that gave her a small amount of alarm. Draco Malfoy and honesty were not something she would ever put together. He had always been a lying snake, trying his best to ferret out the best thing for himself. He was a selfish bastard.

Silence filled the room again, not even the shutter of the camera snapped, though he was still looking at her through it. In turn she looked in his direction, a mixture of conflicted emotions running through her face. Finally the shutter snapped and caused her to blink.

"You were right," she said quietly. "I do need the money. I don't care about fashion or modeling or anything of the sort." There was a small laugh.

"I don't blame you." And a few more snaps of the camera. "I have what I need. Milton should be back by now. He'll pay you whatever way you want." His back turned on her and his attention was once again directed at his cameras rather than her.

Quickly she untangled herself from the flimsy see-through fabric and slipped into the robe. She didn't see him turn and watch her exit as her barefoot steps took her to the changing room quickly. Practically throwing her clothes on, she headed for Milton Manboy to end this day as fast as possible. It was far too strange for her liking. She took her money in notes within an envelope that she shoved hastily in her purse as she left the building two steps at a time. Outside the sun was beginning to lean itself toward evening. She hailed a cab car and with every turn she let a little sigh of relief leave her, happy to have the day over with and never to be thought about again. That is, right after she Flooed Seamus with the day's events.


	5. Chapter 5: Breaking Rules

Darkrooms were not exactly dark. Of course when Draco had first read about one and then actually went in, it was not exactly as he had expected. But true to any Malfoy before him he adapted and thrived. Late into the night, long after Miss Brown had gone, he had locked himself in his darkroom and worked away in his usual solitude. Hunched over developing trays and chemicals while hs fingers were busy with negatives and wet prints. However this was not his usual routine. Usually he waited until the end of the week to do all his developing. Or at least until he had most of the shoots done. This time was different. This time he had the strangest urge to develop the film and print the negatives as soon as possible. His interaction with Miss Brown had left an impression on him. Of what, he was not certain. He merely knew that his mind would not let her out of his head. In hopes of remedying this he reasoned that if he took care of her film then at least his mind could rest a little. All through the development and printing his mind was buzzing with memory of her.

The way she had interacted with him seemed so oddly familiar he felt as though he should know her already. But he had never known any muggles or even any Browns before his photographic escapades. It was a rather plain and ugly name now that he thought about it. And it did not suit her at all. It could not have been her hair that made her familiar either. True enough there were not many redheads in the world but more than one had managed to come through his photography studio before now. Admittedly the first time a girl had come in with bright red locks he had assumed the very worst. A weasley! Muggle loving idiots the lot of them and in his studio! But his assumption had turned out wrong. Wrong four times over with every redheaded girl that had come through the studio. The Weasley were still idiotic fools but none of them were remotely able (or even clever enough) to find him undser a different name anyway. His mind had been soothed until this new girl. No she was certainly not a _girl_. She was more woman than that. He'd clearly seen that.

Generation upon generation of Malfoy men prided themselves upon their professionalism. It had taken Draco a good deal of concentration to not let his mind wander into the gutter. It was form he was after. The body was just a natural vehicle for it. No matter who it was. Still he remembered vividly the events of the shoot. Although, the precise moment it had turned was a bit muddled. Perhaps that meant it had been more of a building up than a sudden realization.

Draco shook his head and checked the clock on the wall. Nearly two o'clock in the morning. Where had the time gone? As he looked upon the numerous drying or dry prints he knew exactly where it had gone. His hand reached up to a particular photo and pulled it down. It was the only one he took with him when he left to go home. In this instance home was a rented flat a block or so away. It was not the Malfoy town house but then again this was his second life and living it with Malfoy money was not exactly something that appealed to Draco. This was a section of his life he wanted away from his parents. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that Lucius would have seen an extra expense every month. Draco did not like answering his father's questions.

Only once he was in his flat and sure to be utterly alone did he slump into his sofa and take out the picture he had brought from from the studio's darkroom. The masked Miss Brown was by the window. Dark folds of the curtains hung behind her, muting all the light save for a slivered stream illuminating her visible features. Her skin looked smooth and her hair soft but it was not these features that drew him. These things paled to the draw of her expression. He remembered looking at her as she looked at him with this face. This mixed expression that had appeared so sure only to be tainted with some kind of confusion. As if the thing she knew, had known, had been so certain of, was not at all what she knew. Like she'd turned some corner and come to a completely unfamiliar place with no way to return again even if she turned around. Her dark eyes held the conflict of what to do with this turn. Focused and feeling and...utterly beautiful.

He remembered snapping the shot and how it had broken the spell of conflict and then their session was ended. He would not see her again. That was personal rule. A rule he had strictly enforced no matter how many letters or calls he had received through Milton to do otherwise.

Draco rose himself up off his sofa, picture still in hand, and headed to his bed. There was more work to be done tomorrow. Another day another model for this week. This was how it usually was when he had a new idea and a dead line for a show. He left the picture face down on his night table as he readied himself for bed. Knowing in the back of his mind that if he was to look at it again he would loose more time. He also knew now was the time he needed to be get some sleep.

The picture remained untouched for the rest of the week. Until all his models had been photographed and his mind could afford to be a bit more muddled. He had analyzed the picture of Mary Brown and found the memory of her was no less vivid than the photograph he held. After a weekend of debating with himself between intervals of working he knew he had to break his own rule. He was going to see Mary again.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter from Draco's point of view. I admit it is shorter than the last chapter  
but I hope none of you are disappointed since I promise some great drama in the next chapter. Review if you love meh (or just the story) heh ;)


	6. Chapter 6: Unwelcome Doorman

A/N: Did I promise great drama? Oh.. I think I did! I am sorry for the horrible delay in updating. I had deviated from my original outline so I had to do some reworking and reordering. I DO hope you like this chapter and I always love to hear your thoughts. Oh yes. And the drama if far from over. ;) (my apologies for all the notices. I was having some trouble uploading the correct chapter. -.- )

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Deciding to break his own rule turned out not to be the hardest choice he'd ever made. At least not in this case. The more he thought about it the more he simply had to see her. He wasn't sure what drove him to be so compelled. However, Draco knew enough of his own nature to understand that once he was driven or compelled there was little to actually stop him. He was sly and clever, and when mixed with determination not much would get in his way. Not even himself. Still, two days had passed since he had actually seek out the woman who would not leave his dreams or his waking mind alone. For those two days he had stared at the address he had taken from Milton's meticulously kept books. He kept it on his nightstand with the picture he had dragged around his with him all week.

When Draco rose in the morning he found that nothing he could conjure or make in his own kitchen seemed appealing. He had tried several attempts but every time whatever he had planned on quickly lost its appeal. He ended up pacing around his flat in a near irritated manner. Deep down he knew it was because he was beating around the bush in making a decision. His inner self was fed up with his outer self's inability to pick a path and travel down it. He was aware of this because it was far from the first time his inner half had made a ruckus with his physical being over choices he was supposed to be making. Outer Draco knew that Inner Draco would not leave him the hell alone until the choice was made...and it had better be the right one.

He could no longer pace around his flat, and chose to take breakfast at one of the local cafe's. He had heard Milton talk of a particular one where several of the 'hot' artist types congregated at all hours of the day. It was not particularly cheap, but it was excellent for what it was. Draco had no idea what that meant. If it was shite did that mean it was excellent shite? Probably. He also knew that the cafe, know as: The Little Cafè, was a ways away from where he lived but getting there would hardly been any trouble. A convenient Apparation point was just a few blocks away. He could do with a bit of a walk anyway. It was amazing what a walk could do for your thoughts when they were muddled.

Before he exited Draco grabbed his dark gray coat. Of all his coats he happened to be rather fond of this one. It fit him like a glove while managing to show of his debonair side, of which he was very fond. He made sure to lock the flat before giving the hall outside a glance left and right. Seeing no one around he was gone with a crisp pop. It was not unlike the sudden shattering of a balloon. Scarcely a moment later he appeared in a deserted alley. He took a moment to look over himself though it was hardly as if he expected anyone to recognize him. Lazily putting his hands into his pocket he began his walk toward The Little Cafè. He felt something crease in his pocket as his fingers touched it. As he withdrew his hand he saw an all to familiar shade of paper, and his own neat script with Mary's address taunting him to make a choice. He shoved the scrap in his pocket, and continued a walk at his normal pace. He'd be damned if he left a tiny piece of paper bully him into anything.

To his slight surprise the cafè was a bustle with activity. The small section of tables stretched onto the sidewalk were nearly occupied. He took a glance at the iron fence that blocked the tables from spilling out any further, and decided that if he was going to sit anywhere it was going to be at one of those tables. He did not often go outside, but he did enjoy having his meals there.

Draco entered the pub, and gave it a quick glance. It was just as bustling with life in here as the patio tables had suggested. A woman behind the bar counter caught sight of him, and gave him welcoming smile. He came toward her, and saw her smile grow ever so slightly the more she got a good look at him. This wasn't exactly troubling as he was well aware of how handsome he looked. Actually, he hardly noticed it anymore unless he was in a place unfamiliar to him. By pure instinct he had to find a place, and take in his surroundings. The woman who gave her name as 'Sue' handed him a menu and asked if he'd like to sit at the bar. As politely as he could he declined her obvious offer to get him in her territory with the hopes of chatting him up for whatever thoughts were rolling about her in her head. He made his way toward the patio, and away from a slightly crest fallen Sue.

Just to his luck there was an appealing table in the corner that gave a view of both the sidewalk and into the cafe if he chose to look that way. He took his seat, and first looked over the menu in his head. Something in his stomach was clearing. That much he could feel. Several of the choice now seemed appealing, and it appeared his plan had worked. He had beaten his own nature for the moment. Take that Inner Draco! The most pressing question at hand was ordering his meal. He could decide under what pretense to contact Miss Brown once that was done, once he had some food. As he read he heard a shuffling noise come closer toward him, but didn't deem it worthy to look up from his menu.

"Welcome to The Little Cafè. My name is Ginny. I'll be your waitress this morning. What can I get for you?"

Ginny. _Ginny._

Draco's eyes snapped up so quickly that they could have rolled back in his head were they no so fixed on a face that went from pleasant and helpful to sullen and horrified. He couldn't believe his eyes. The little girl Weasley waiting tables like some low rent harlot.

"Ma-Malfoy!" She whisper in harsh disbelief.

He smirked at her. "Well,well, I never would have imagined that passing through such a tiny little hole would prove to be so amusing. " The amusement was in his lofty tone. Saint Potter's little girl-toy waiting tables.

"What are you doing here?" She glared at him while clutching the pen she had been prepared to write his order with.

"I'm having brunch." He said in a placidly superior tone.

"I would have guessed that! I mean what are you doing _here. _At my cafe, my job." She hissed in a low irritated voice at him. This was her place of work. She very well couldn't raise a huge scene here. _Oh gods! What if he knows it was me. If he knows he took those pictures of me. He'd come here to rub it in my face, to ruin my life. Oh, oh I think I am going to be sick._

Draco rose a brow at her, and she knew she hated that look on his face.

"The only thing this has to do with you regards my order. Now be a good little waitron and fetch me what I want or it's no tip for you. That is what you are living on now, isn't it? Tips. Your family so poor now that it's this or begging on the streets." He was enjoying this a little to much. He always knew that Weasley's were built for the service industry. It really only made sense if he actually thought about it.

Ginny's face was flushed red, and it was clear that she was trying very hard to control herself. If she hadn't needed this job so much she would have slapped that stupid prig right across his smug little face. Her jaw was clenched so tightly that she when she spoked it was through her teeth.

"Order or get out." Every word was meticulously pronounced. She took care with each syllable hoping that it would control her want to curse him magically and verbally. It was clear that he was only here by coincidence. There was no doubt in her in mind that if he knew she was also Mary Brown he would have mentioned it by now. With all the smugness that he was going on with there was no way he could have resisted throwing that in her face along with her need to wait tables. She didn't hate her job, and she had never felt particularly bad about it either. It was hardly like she was going to let Draco Malfoy show up, and suddenly make her feel horrible about her life. She was to stubborn to let that happen.

Much to Ginny's dismay Draco did order. Not only that, but he gave the most thorough requests she nearly wanted to hit him again for being a prissy freak about his food. She kept from stomping back to the kitchen to hand the order in, but the moment it was out of her fingers she gave a guttural growl of pure annoyance. The cook gave her an odd look, but said nothing. Ginny wasn't even paying attention to him anyway. How could she have thought for even one moment that Draco Malfoy was anything but a selfish bastard who loved nothing more than to cut at people with every word he spoke. Whatever it was that she had glimpsed in Draco before had to be some kind of fluke. A moment that was surely never to be repeated. An odd mixture of the situation she had been in. She had done her best not to be bothered by her doubts ever since she left the photography studio. Still there were the times in the middle of the night right before she was falling asleep that a little whisper would speak to her mind. _There's more there. There's more than you think._ Well that was a load of shite wasn't it! Clearly she had been mistaken and Malfoy was nothing more than the jackass he had been in school. He was just an older jackass.

She rubbed tenderly at her temples before she left the kitchen to check on her other tables. She did not make eye contact with any part of the table Draco was sitting at, and it was really for the better.

The moment Ginny had nearly stormed away from him Draco felt an odd sense rise that he was unsatisfied with what had happened. It was true his quips had not been the most brilliant. Yes, that had to the correct answer. He had picked himself up a paper, and began flicking through it with little interest. He hardly liked reading the paper, but he needed something for his hands and his eyes. It was around the top of his paper that he watched the rest of the cafè. All the little Muggles he half heartedly disliked now a days. It was more habit than actual conviction. Though he would only admit that to himself. And he could see Ginny too. When he looked at her something nagged at the inside of him. It was like the thought you lose right as you are waking up. You know it's there, but it's pointless for you to chase after. He could see she was decidedly ignore him too. It wasn't until she came toward him with his food that she actually gave him any acknowledgment at all.

"Here." She said in a stiff tone as she placed the plates down. It was as close to polite as she was going to get. "Anything else?" She watched his face she he looked over the food. She saw how his eyes looked down his nose the same way she remember his father looking down his nose at everything.

"I'm curious to what you are actually doing here." He said while still eyeing his food.

"Anything else I can get you regarding your food." Her tone did not change. She knew she was unprepared, and completely unwilling to answer any questions from him.

There was a silence before he finally reached in his pocket and withdrew money enough to pay for his meal plus tip. "No. I've rather lost my appetite." He stood and casually dropped the money to the table. "Seems the service is subpar and I'd rather not take the chance to be sick from the food either." Out of the corner of his eye as he strode from the cafè he could see the disbelief on her face. He smirked to himself and his stomach actually did protest. The food had looked entirely delicious. He simply wanted to see the look on her face from having run her about a bit simply to walk out of the restaurant all together.

Draco made his way down the sidewalk toward the Apparation point he had used before. He didn't want to go back to his flat, and he still had work to do. It was his studio he was headed to now. He could easily make Milton fetch him something to eat so at least his stomach would stop its increasing protests.

That is exactly what he did when he finally entered his studio. While Draco waited for his assistant to return he had several things to look over. The final submissions that would hang in his show along with the invitations that were to be sent out to promote the work. At least these were the official invites. The date of the show had been set far in advance. Even if he had sent out nothing Draco knew that the gallery would have been filled with people anyway. Still it was formality and somethings, formal or otherwise, he could not dismiss.

Milton returned with Draco's food in record time. He had to admit that for a Muggle he was a rather capable person. An odd thought when it had struck him for the first time. He'd never thought of someone that was supposed to be below him in an appreciative way before. Now it was not exactly odd. It was merely Milton.

"I've marked the selected prints I want hung on the contact sheet, and I chose the invitation." Draco paused in thought for a moment. "I would like them printed as soon as possible. And have a few delivered to my flat on a rush."

Without a question Milton nodded and went on to do his business. Draco was left to himself, and the choice he had just made. It seemed the best route really. He had finally decided to personally invite Mary to the opening. It was a move he had not ever made before. He did not like to attend his own openings, and most often he did not. He had kept his face from the Muggle papers. He had done it with his art books as well. Part of the mystery of TH was that no one knew exactly what he looked like. The models all had signed contracts stating they would not give this information up, and if they did it was a breach of their agreement. The consequences of which were clearly outlined. Not to mention Draco would hunt them down, and modify their memories. He had to protect himself. This part of himself that was so vital to any amount of happiness he was able to gather.

He could never forget the endless feeling of hopelessness. The sense of dread and the broken void his soul ached in. This, photography, had helped him heal even just a little bit. He could not give that up for all the world. He had made sense of his darkness with this tool of light. How could he abandon it? He simply... couldn't. He wouldn't. So why then would he risk such a thing to see Mary Brown? Draco was stuck in some odd paradox of himself. He knew that well enough. He could not protect this section of his life so long as she was in his mind. He had to get her out. He had to solve the puzzle of her. To get rid of her. To go back to what he was doing. The slow healing of his heart and soul through creation. That...that was why he needed to get to her so much. So he could get over her, and onto other things. Bringing her to the opening would surely do the trick. No one would really know him there and it was the perfect excuse to get to see her. To get to her door at any rate.

His mind soothed with the path he'd chosen. Even Inner Draco seemed pleased with what had been decided. He enjoyed his late breakfast, and worked diligently on his prints until mid afternoon. It was about time he headed to the manor to see his parents. He had to keep up the guise that he was actually working for Blaise's Uncle in the exchange business. How Blaise had gotten his uncle to agree to this Draco would never know, but he was thankful.

In the afternoon of the following day Draco went to his flat in Muggle London. He had seen his mother and father in well health, and they were pleased he was working so well with the Zabini's. It would surely rub some of the tarnish off of the Malfoy family name. Draco had agreed, and now guilt poked at the back of his mind as a reflex. Until he saw the small package on the kitchen table. All thoughts of his parents vanished as his fingers opened it. His eyes held the sight of exactly what he had wanted, the invitations. He could go to Mary Brown's tonight.

That is exactly what he did. He chose his time carefully. Either she would be having dinner or leaving to go out. No matter what he would be able to catch her. He travelled to her building with his bait in hand, addressed in his confidant script. Draco strode to the correct flat number, and knocked three times on the door. While he waited he imagined several of the looks he might get on what he also imagined the rest of her face to be. It still irked him that he did not know all her features. It had been a fact that tormented him all through his process of getting ready for the show. He'd imagined her several times over with different features though none of his adaptions ever seemed satisfactory. He had to know the real thing. Finally the door swung open.

"What the bloody fucking hell are you doing here?" Harry Potter exclaimed in a mix of hatred and bewilderment.

Draco merely blinked at him utterly confused. "I'm looking for Mary Brown." It only took a moment more for him to pull himself together over the shock of Harry opening the door. "Shagging Muggles are you? And behind that Weasley tart's back. Well, aren't you two just the couple of the year." Draco was fully himself now as he sneered at Harry.

"Who the hell is Mary Brown?" Harry glared as best he could. "And don't talk to me like that Malfoy! You disgraced piece of shite. What we do is none of your business!"

"Harry?" A female voice called from somewhere deeper in the flat.

"Oh is that her? You're such a rotten bastard and I always knew it. You've got everyone fooled but me." Draco sneered again, and his body tensed as he heard light footsteps come toward the door.

"What's going on Ha-" Ginny was cut off mid-sentence as she came into view of the door. Her eyes went wide in a moment of panic.

"Oh brilliant Weasley's here too. You lot having a threesome? Just wonderful. Well, I'm not staying as a fourth." Draco rolled his eyes as he spoke his humor in a cold tone. He could could see the panic plain as day on Ginny's face, but Harry was utterly clueless as he wasn't facing her.

"Malfoy what in the name of-" She began speaking again.

"I've already asked him what the hell he's doing here Gin."

Harry had cut her off. She just stared at Draco with the oddest expression. And then it all seemed to click for Draco.

"You're-you're Mary Brown aren't you Weasley." His eyes narrowed into slits. "Oh that's just _fucking_ perfect. How the hell did you know where to find me?" He began to advance into the room but stopped short when Harry drew his wand. "Always quick to draw Potter." Draco said in a lofty tone. "And never capable of finishing what you started alone."

"Shut up Malfoy." Harry made a move at him.

Draco hardly even batted an eyelash. "I suggest you think twice. The last time we dueled we were children. I've got a lot more on you Potter. I know your stupid but attempt a thought right about now."

Harry started to shake, and Ginny knew there was going to be a duel in her hall if things didn't stop right here and now. She grabbed Harry by the shoulder, and tried to put some distance between the two wizards.

"Harry you can't. This is a muggle building. It will cause so much trouble."

Harry looked at her, but his breathing was short and shallow.

"Oh yes." Draco drawled. "Letting a Weasley get in the middle. How utterly typical. Though I suppose it's not a bad idea. There are quite a few of them to go through."

"Malfoy I swear to God-" Harry's wand hand was still pointed at Draco and began to shake with the effort to control himself.

"Harry!" Ginny gave him a hard push, and while he was distracted with his own balance she rushed at the door. "Malfoy get the hell out of here." She slammed the door in his face, and peeped through the hole that let her see the hall. She could see he was still standing there as if he was debating something. A moment later he bent down and a white envelope slipped through the door.


	7. Chapter 7: Blow Out

Ginny peered through the peephole until she could no longer see Draco in the hallway. She wanted to make sure he was gone. Her eyes followed the grain of the wood to the floor where the white envelope lay next to her foot. The same script she had recognized from her acceptance letter had written 'Mary Brown' across its front. She bent to pick it up, and when she turned around she was met with Harry's furious gaze. He looked so entirely angry that she wondered if he could even make a single word. For the briefest of moments she imagined him trying to speak, and only guttural sounds coming out.

She began to form his name on her lips, but it was Harry who pounced on the silence shattering it.

"Whatever the hell you are about to say Ginny better be fucking amazing."

She had heard a threat laced into his tone, and it surprised her completely. Harry had never once spoken to her like this. Not with this sheer anger or hatred. It quickly became apparent that she was the one incapable of speech.

"Well?" He asked her angrily. "What the fuck do you have to say for yourself Ginny? Who is Mary Brown? Why does Malfoy know where you live?"

There was a pause after his questions, and Ginny still couldn't force any words out of her mouth. They were all logical questions. The answers bounced around in her head, but couldn't make the leap away from thought and into word. She never planned to answer them to anyone let alone Harry.

"What is it that he gave you?" Harry made a forward movement for her with his hand out to grab the envelope.

In some insane act of primitive self-preservation she made a dash for the opposite side of the room, but she wasn't quick enough. Harry's Auror training had him heading her off to soon. His hand intercepted the envelope and in a rough move, ripped it apart. Ginny stared in horror as thoughts formed over Harry's features. His face had always been so easy to read.

"Harry you have to listen to me. I swear it's not at all what you're thinking it is!" Finally her ability to speak had returned, but was it really going to help? The look on Harry's face suggested a firm 'no.'

Harry looked up from the rumpled invitation to Ginny's face. "Do you want me to tell you what it looks like? It's in invitation to room full of pictures of naked women. I don't even want to say what I think this is. It's sick Ginny!"

"Harry that's ridiculous. I told you it's not what it looks like! It's an art gallery."

"Art!" Harry scoffed and look down to the paper in his hand again. "If this is art-I'm an armadillo!"

"This is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you wouldn't understand!" Ginny felt something hot growing in her chest. She'd never thought she'd be getting angry at Harry over this. All he had done so far was jump to conclusions, and accuse her of things she had not done.

"What do you mean? I understand plenty."

"Are you sure about that Harry?" Her voice was raising with her emotion.

"Yeah, I am!" Harry's eyes narrowed.

Ginny glared at him. It was like all the little things that had pecked at her over their relationship were molding together into something that could no longer be ignored. Things she had forgiven, or she had told herself were nothing were now boiling to the surface. How could he treat her like this! "Then you're gravely mistaken! Your head is so far up your own arse you can't even tell when something else is going on." With her anger emboldening her she took a step toward him.

"I knew it!" Harry shouted pointing a finger at her, and taking several steps toward her too. "I knew you were consorting with Malfoy! How could you Ginny! How could you do this to me?"

She let out a frustrated growl that could have doubled for a disbelieving laugh. "I didn't do anything to you Harry! How can't you see that?"

"Nothing? Nothing!" He shook the rumpled invitation at her with anger still in his eyes. "Are you in this?"

"So what if I am?" She shouted at him.

"It's completely humiliating!"

"Oh GODS forbid anything _humiliating_ ever happen to the great Harry Potter!" Ginny reached forward and snatched the invitation out of his hand.

Harry narrowed his furious gaze, quite sure he sustained a paper cut now. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're a total...asshat sometimes!" Ginny would have laughed at her own insult had she not been so angry.

"You've got to be kidding me," he threw his hands up in the air. "You've gone completely insane."

"I am not insane."

"Letting Malfoy take naked pictures of you is utterly insane!" Harry felt like he was moments away from shaking her.

"I didn't know he was going to be there! I just needed the money." Ginny could see him trembling with effort to control himself. She wondered how long it could last. She had never had a row with Harry of this magnitude. In fact, she never thought she would have this type of shouting match against him.

"So you decided to whore yourself out? That's brilliant Ginny!" Harry shouted at her.

Ginny was taken aback, and she stood in a stunned silence. Never in a a million years did she imagine that Harry would call her such a thing. No matter how angry he could be.

Harry came toward her again, and took her by the shoulders, "Is that what you are now?"

Ginny flinched away from him, but kept her eyes on his face with a glare. "Let go of me," she said in a calm voice. Had either of them had a clear head this would have been seen as a bad sign for the moments to come.

"You're my girlfriend, I can do what I want," Harry sneered at her.

"Let me go right now." Ginny spoke each word with clear pronunciation.

Harry didn't seem to care what she was saying. Easily blinded he felt what he had said was true. Not only that, but Ginny had betrayed him to one of the worst people in the world. The more he thought about it the steadier his anger became. The more he was unable to let go of Ginny's shoulders.

Several long moments passed before Ginny yelled at him again. "Let me go!"

"Just tell me one thing Ginny." Harry had managed to control his voice and bring it to something of a normal level. "How long have you been lying to me? How long have you been out running this secret life that involves taking your clothes off for anyone with a bloody galleon?"

"Get out!" Hot tears had finally managed to well up in her eyes. She couldn't stand this anymore. She balled her hand into a fist and hit Harry with as much force as she could manage with the awkwardness of her shoulders being held. "Get out right now!"

Harry growled some of his anger into a guttural noise of disapproval. "Why?" He yelled back at her with equal gusto. He released Ginny so roughly she stumbled backwards to the couch and nearly fell into it. He began to turn around until she shouted her reply to him.

"Because I fucking told you to," she yelled at him again as she righted herself, "now leave!"

Harry rounded in her direction once more. "Don't you think you can for one minute tell me where to go. I'm not the one without a sense of decency."

"Decency!" Ginny shrieked. "You wouldn't know decency if it bit you on the arse!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He narrowed his eyes at her again.

"It means that when you get right down to it Harry Potter, you...are a selfish bastard." Ginny set her jaw and squared her shoulders. She was done with this bullshit. She played the sweet forgiving girlfriend all these months and years. She had done it because she loved Harry. At least she thought she did. Perhaps she was in love with the boy she remembered from school, and not the man that was glaring at her so angrily right now.

"I fail to see how I am a selfish bastard. Especially when I've done plenty saving of other people's life."

Ginny let out a frustrated howl of laughter. "See! Right there! Saint Fucking Potter. You'll never let anyone forget. Don't you think I know just what you've done. You aren't the only one that lost people Harry. You aren't the only one that fought and sacrificed. Why can't you let everyone feel like they can stop owing you things!"

"I do not act like that!" Harry roared.

"Yes, you goddamn do," Ginny said firmly.

"Take that back right now Ginny!" Harry came toward her with a hand outstretched to grab hold of her again.

"I will not. It's true!" She ducked away from him, and could see the anger boiling up in him again by the expression on his face.

Harry followed after her with intent. "Take it back I said. This is not about me! It's about you!"

"That's not true either." She continued to evade him. "I know deep down you're more worried about how this will make you're upstanding reputation look."

"So help me God, Ginny, I am going to-"

She cut him off, "what! What are you going to do?"

In what might as well have been a flash of lightening Harry's hand rose and struck Ginny across the face with a resounding smack. If she weren't in shock the sting would have been red hot. Her eyes were wide with her head still turned in the direction she had been slapped. Stunned silence was interrupted only by their ragged breathing.

"Leave," she said in quiet firm voice.

"Ginny...I..didn't,"Harry stammered.

"Leave. We're done," she repeated in her same tone. She refused to turn her head to look at him.

Harry turned from her and moved across the room to grab his coat. The last Ginny saw of him was out of the corner of her eye as the green flames of her fireplace surrounded him taking him away.


	8. Chapter 8: Fallout

Chapter 8: Fallout

Ginny stood in the middle of her flat**,** between the couch and the far window that faced the street several floors below. The time that she had been standing there went unaccounted for as her mind remained blank and numb from her row with Harry. She simply couldn't believe any of what had just happened to her. Harry Potter had struck her with his own hand. The thought baffled Ginny. Never, even in her wildest nightmares, had she thought Harry was even capable of such a thing.

Distantly she was aware of her body moving toward her sofa. Through the fog of shock she lowered herself into its cushions.

"Gods**,**I hate Floo travel. Why can't you live in a wizard apartment building?" Ron patted soot off of himself as he caught sight of his sister on the couch.

Ginny looked over at him**,** unsure of exactly when he had arrived**,** though her brain somehow managed to register his complaint. Silence fell between the siblings. Ginny's brain worked through the fog to gather exactly why he was in her flat. Even so**,** she had nothing she wanted to say at the moment. It disconcerted her how calm he looked. Usually his temper was far worse than her own. His calmness could only mean a couple of things.

Awkwardly Ron came toward his sister and stood before her. "So, uh...Gin. What's this I hear about you kicking Harry out and breaking up with him to take nudie pictures of yourself all day? 'Cause I gotta say, when Harry told me I thought he was blitzed out of his mind." Ron paused for a moment**,** giving an uneasy laugh. "He told me the whole thing and I think he was right to be angry. Malfoy showing up at your flat? Come on**,** Gin." He paused for a moment. "It sounds to me like you're being unreasonable. It's not true... is it?"

"Unreasonable?" Ginny asked in a loud tone after hearing her brother side with Harry without question. "I don't think I am being the least bit unreasonable." She glared at him deeply. "He didn't even tell you the truth and you assume I'm the crazy evil one." Ginny crossed her arms and sat back on the couch.

Ron looked at her confused. "Truth? Harry would never lie to me."

"Oh really!" Ginny cut him off with her raised voice. "Of course it's not a lie if he just happens to leave out something. That's just omission." The bitterness was clear in her voice.

"You're not making any sense, and yelling at me won't make me understand you!" Ron yelled back at her.

"He hit me**,**Ron!" She blurted out. "I'll bet you 1,000 galleons he didn't tell you that!"

Silence overtook the room. What she had just told her brother took a couple of minutes to register completely with Ron. Like Ginny, he couldn't imagine Harry capable of such a thing. He would never hit a girl, let alone his best mate's little sister. Harry had promised Ron he would take the very best care of Ginny when they had begun to date.

Still, Ginny would never lie to him either. She wouldn't make something like this up. She had always been a truthful person."Are you serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking Ron?" Tears finally started to well up in Ginny's eyes, though she managed to keep any from falling just yet. Her shoulders shook a bit with the effort as she displayed her injured face.

Ron sat down next to her on the couch and put his arm around her shoulders. He felt a small shudder as Ginny curled into the crook of his body and cried. She wasn't there long before she sat up and wiped the small streaks of tears clean from her face. In the span of a couple of hours her life had just turned completely upside down.

"I'm going to kill him," Ron said in a determined voice as he turned Ginny's injured cheek toward him gently. He felt stupid for not noticing it before.

Her hand rose to her cheek to touch it gingerly. Even this soft brush of her fingers stung, putting some more sense back into her mind. "It won't do any good," she replied in a quiet tone.

"I'm still going to kill him." Ron rose from his seat, but Ginny caught his arm by the wrist.

"Could you just stay the night instead?"

This plan was only less appealing to Ron because it did not allow him to throttle the bastard that had hit his little sister. However, there was still a chance Harry could show up again.

"Yeah, I'll just pop back home and tell Hermione what's really going on. I won't be long...unless Harry's still there."

"Just come back soon, alright?" Despite all the fights in her childhood with Ron he was still the brother she was closest too. Their small age gap was probably the reason they fought as they did in the first place, but that didn't change her love for him. She loved him dearly, and it was clear -especially at this moment- that he loved her fiercely too.

"Yeah, ok." He gave a quick nod. "See you in a bit."

Ron made his was toward the fireplace, and a moment later he was gone in a trail of green flames.

Once again Ginny raised her hand to her cheek and felt the sting of what Harry had done. There was no denying it, he had certainly hit her. This was completely out of character for him, and her mind still struggled to wrap around it totally. Never would he ever do such a thing to her.

The more her mind ran over what had happened the more she began to rationalize Harry's actions as not being his fault at all. He was merely reacting to the events around him, and to what she had done. This didn't make her any less angry at him. Nor did it get him automatic forgiveness for the atrocity he had performed against her.

Ginny had been raised to never think such actions were acceptable. Her father had never once raised a hand to her mother, and Ginny had a sneaking suspicion if he ever had he would have lost that battle.

Harry's behavior therefore was wrong for a couple of reasons. He should never have hit her, but he never should have been put in that situation either. This had all happened because of her choices, but, more importantly, those of Draco Malfoy.

Inwardly Ginny scolded herself for goading Harry on as if he were Ron. When they had been little the two youngest Weasleys were quite well known for their loud and sometimes destructive rows in the Burrow. After heavy amounts of scolding from their mother, Ginny's tempestuous fights with Ron were brought down to a minimum. Their rows eventually turned to mere verbal sparing as they got older. Even at the age of twenty-three she and Ron fought, but it was at record lows.

It was this history of hot tempered behavior Ginny blamed for her unwillingness to just roll over when Harry had accused her so roughly. She still steadfastly believed she had done nothing wrong. She was, however, completely to blame for reacting with her emotions rather than with a level head. Even so she was not completely to blame.

With each passing moment she convinced herself that Harry's behavior really was the fault of Draco. In that moment, as the hot feeling of anger rose in her chest again, she decided that Malfoy was going to get a large piece of her mind the following day.

No sooner had she made this decision than her fireplace flames turned green, roaring to life once again. Coughing loudly, the lanky form of her brother stumbled out of the Floo.

"All set, Gin. I'm staying with you the next few days."

Ginny nodded, but paused for a moment. "Was he there?"

Ron shook his head. "No. Mione said as soon as I left he turned tail pretty fast. Guess he figured you'd tell me the full story and he didn't want to be around for that." He gave his sister a small lopsided grin. "Good thing**,** too. Once I told Mione what he did she was livid. I've only seen her that mad when I forget to put my dirty clothes in the hamper." Hermione had always been a bit of a neat freak. It didn't help that Ron was a practically a licensed slob.

Ron's attempt at lightening the mood did little to lighten Ginny's mind, but it was better than nothing. "Thanks."

He gave her a shrug in reply. "Not like I'm going to leave you alone, is it?"

"I guess not." She gave him a small grateful smile.

Slowly Ginny stood up from the couch, and made her way to the kitchen. Pulling out a small dish towel, she charmed it to be cold and pressed it gently to her sore cheek.

"Uh," Ron cleared the silence, "do you need any help?"

Ginny turned around toward the living room again, and shook her head slightly. "No, it's fine. Or it will be. I'll be able to put an de-swelling charm on it in the morning. I don't really know how bad it is at the moment anyway." She paused for a moment, and the exhaustion of the night finally began to hit her. "I'm just going to head to bed. There's some extra blankets and things in the closet there."

"Sure thing." Ron met her as she headed for the small hall that led to the bedroom. "Goodnight Gin." He gave her forehead a light kiss.

Ginny left her brother in the living room, and it occurred to her that he really wasn't the boy she had grown up with all those years in the Burrow. In someways he still was, but there was a level of maturity now that hadn't been there before. It was strangely comforting at an odd time like now.

In her bedroom, sleep began to nag at her as she changed into her night clothes. The fuzziness of sleep was a welcome dark blanket to any thoughts that begged for attention. Nestled in her bedding, Ginny's hand reached out, turning her night side table lamp off. That night she fell asleep with the coolness of the rag against her cheek, sending her dreams to an odd place.

a/n: Thank you to those of your that review and leave comments for this story. It makes me want to continue it! It really does mean a lot 3. I hope you are all happy with this long over due chapter. Ron got to make a Ron-ish appearance and he'll no doubt be back in the story again! Enjoy and keep reading :]


	9. Chapter 9: Flip Flop

**Chapter 9: Flip Flop**

Ginny woke up the next morning to find her brother in her kitchen standing over a bowl of cereal and laughing at the newspaper's funny section. Seeing Ron gave her some comfort as she knew the events of the night before were not something she wanted to explain to anyone else in her family. They would no doubt all want to know why Harry and she had fought. It was an awkward and horrible conversation just imagining it.

"Morning Gin," Ron said in his usual cheerful manner startling Ginny from her thoughts.

She gave him a small hello in return while she made her way toward the kitchen counter. "I do have these new fascinating things called chairs you know. You can eat a whole meal while not lumbering over it like it might get away from you," she grinned at him teasingly.

"Oh that's hilarious sis,"he grinned at her in return. "Say don't you need to get to Healer training soon?"

Ginny dropped her eyes to the counter with a little frown. "I don't feel much like going today. I think I might just call in sick, or take a personal day, or something. I haven't used one the entire school year... I think it's OK if I take one this once."

Ron's amused expression drained away with his sister's words. "Yeah, I'd say that's just fine...do you want me to stay home with you?," he asked a little awkwardly. Ron had never been very good at comforting people, let alone girls, even if he was related to them. In fact Ron had never been very good with anything having to do with the female gender. Ginny considered his relationship with Hermione to be a miracle.

"I'll be fine," she assured him with a smile. "Besides you've got to go to work too. The Ministry needs its Aurors." She didn't want to consider what might happen when Ron saw Harry that day. She was a little regretful she mentioned it.

Ron looked over at the clock and gave a small curse. "And it looks like I'm going to be late too if I don't get going soon." Putting his used dishes in the sink he stopped by Ginny to give her a kiss on the top of her head. He frowned a little when he caught a better look at her cheek that was showing some bruising despite what Ginny had said about it last night. "I am going to hex the shit out of Harry the next time I see him. That is if he even shows up to work today."

Ginny sighed, "Ron just leave it alone. I don't want you getting in a fight with him. The only thing I want is for him to just...stay away right now." She gave him a stern look. "No hexing. I mean it." In truth she didn't want Ron fighting with Harry because of the questions it would bring. Otherwise she would have happily let Ron hex Harry to his heart's content.

"Fine. I won't hex him," Ron conceded with a sigh.

"Are you crossing your fingers right now?," Ginny asked.

A paused was all of Ron's answer until he shiftily added, "...no."

Ginny just laughed, "You are the worst liar on the planet."

"Whatever...I am not Miss Wrinkles-Her-Nose-When-Bluffing."

"I do not!" Ginny protested with her arms crossed lightly across her chest.

"You're the worst poker player in the whole world. I clean you out every time because of it."

Ginny gave him a light shove. "You're a cheater."

Ron laughed and ruffled her hair in reply before he headed off to change into his Ministry clothes and robes. "I am not. I just know your faces because you make them at me all the time. I think it's time you got a new face Gin if you're so upset you loose."

"Hey, I like my face!" She shouted at him as he headed to the bathroom. Rolling her eyes she chuckled a little to herself.

When Ron came back to her flat after work she found out that Harry had not been to the office. Something he had been more than a little upset about. Ginny knew how her brother had wanted to give his best mate a good hexing despite Ginny telling him not to. More likely than not telling him to leave Harry alone only made Ron want to confront his best mate more. It was rather predicable behavior for her youngest brother. The twins had gotten him to do more than one really stupid thing by telling Ron he couldn't do it at all.

The weekend even passed without incident with Ron staying over and Hermione coming to visit too. Ginny finally assured them both that should be fine come Monday and neither of them needed to stay with her anymore. It was nice to have people care about you, and her brother had provided a good distraction for her mind while he was around. She also knew that she needed some time alone to finally and truly process what had happened.

On Monday Ginny went back to her healing classes but called in sick to the cafe again. She didn't want the chance of seeing either Harry or Malfoy. For once the policy of visitors at St. Mungo's was working in her favor. No one at the hospital even seemed to notice Ginny had called out sick. Only one of her fellow trainees, a girl named Stephanie, said she was glad Ginny was feeling better.

By Wednesday she had to admit that getting back to work with some sort of routine was doing her good. Sitting at her small kitchen table over her dinner for one she started to think about Harry again. Something between guilt, shame and anger slowly rose in her chest. Deep into her thoughts about what had happened she wasn't startled by the appearance of green flames in her fireplace even though she was not expecting anyone. Ron stepped out dusting himself off not looking happy.

Ginny gave him a curious look, "Ron. What are you doing back here? I said I was fine."

"Yeah...I know Ginny," he shook his head a bit.

Something about the look on his face and how he lingered by the fireplace made Ginny concerned. "Then why are you here?"

"I finally met up with Harry." He fidgeted with his sleeve.

Her eyes went a little wide from this news. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Ron said in a calm voice that made Ginny more concerned, "we just had a chat."

"You had a chat?," Ginny questioned.

"Yeah...he actually told me what it was you two had the fight about."

Ginny felt a sudden pressure on her ribcage like she had just been sat on by someone twice her size. She swallowed and tried to think of what to say. Before she could come up with anything Ron was speaking again.

"I want to know if it's true," he crossed his arms as he stared as his one and only little sister. "Did you let Malfoy take naked pictures of you that are going to hang all over some room for people to see?"

Ginny's brow flexed and for some reason she felt the urge to tear up but managed to avoid it. "I didn't know it was going to be Malfoy."

Ron looked flabbergasted, "So it is true! Ginny what the hell were you thinking? Are you mental!"

"Don't yell at me Ron!" Ginny said defensively. "I didn't know it was going to be Malfoy taking the pictures. It was supposed to be this artist everyone is wild about. It was a one time thing and I... I really needed the money."

"Jesus Christ Ginny, you **have** gone completely mental." He tossed his hands up in the air, "Do you hear yourself? What is Mum going to say when she finds out?"

Ginny jumped out of her seat. "Ron you can't tell Mum. You just can't. She'll never understand."

"I don't even understand!" Ron shouted at her again. "You let some bloke take pictures of you without any clothes and...and it turned out to be Malfoy... DRACO Malfoy saw my little baby sister with no clothes on! Arg, I'm going to kill him! Harry has every right to be pissed off at you Ginny."

"What?" She couldn't believe what she had just heard. "Are you serious?"

"Yes I am fucking serious! Harry has every right to be mad at you. What you did was crazy. They should have you checked at Mungo's. I think crazy is contagious."

As Ginny's dumbfounded feelings slipped away she was left with nothing but anger once again. She pointed directly at Ron and in an angry voice declared, "Fuck you Ronald Weasley." She clenched her fists as she came toward him. "I am not a little girl or a baby anymore. I can do whatever I want and if I want to go let some famous artist take naked pictures of me than I am damn well going to do it!" Bringing up a hand she gave him a hard shove in the direction of her fireplace. "And if you even think about telling Mum what you know I will gladly send out the photos from that 'Night In Reno' party. Not just to Hermoine but to the whole damn Ministry. Do you hear me?"

"Blackmail Ginny?" He sounded slightly surprise. "Who are you and what did you do with my little sister!"

"I am your sister you idiot now get the **hell** out of my apartment. NOW." She gave him a final shove at the fireplace.

The siblings glared at each other right until the green flames swallowed Ron completely. Suddenly feeling exhausted again Ginny slumped into her couch and put her head in her hands. She came to the realization that with Ron no longer on her side there was no one to talk to about this entire situation. Ron was her closest brother, explaining this to any of the other Weasley siblings was just going to be awkward and horrible at best. Trying to have a serious conversation with the twins was like pulling teeth sometimes. Percy was still pretty much dead to the entire family. Charlie and Bill both had their own busy lives. She knew she was going to have to deal with this alone and leave her family out of it.

It bothered her how quickly Ron had switched sides to Harry. Part of her wasn't surprised and part of her wanted to agree with them. What she had done probably was a little crazy. Even more so when she realized it was Malfoy who was the photographer and she hadn't run out of there immediately.

Ginny dropped her hands into her lap and sat back into her couch with a heavy sigh. Her life was a complete mess now. She had no idea how to get it back to normal. While shaking her head a bit to try and get some sense into it a piece of white under a chair by the window caught her eye. It stood out against the dark rug of the floor. Still feeling angry at Ron for his betrayal she stood up to go investigate the paper on her floor. Picking it up she realized it was the invite to the gallery show. Mary Brown's name was on the envelope in Draco's unfamiliar handwriting.

Angrily Ginny crumpled up the invitation and stomped her way into the kitchen to toss it in the sink and garbage disposal it into nonexistence. Fuming words rang through her head against wizards and men in general. With each step she took toward the sink she had choice words that would have made her mother angry for weeks. Even as she shoved the paper into the disposal she still fumed. They continued right until she was about to flip the switch for the disposal and she realized all of this really was in the fault of one wizard's hands―Draco Malfoy―and he was going to pay.

A/N: Well here is a brand new shiny chapter! I'm so happy I was able to get this one out. I hope you all like it and that it keeps you looking forward to the next one. I'll do my best not to keep you waiting to long! RL has been super crazy these past 2 weeks. I also want to thank those of you that review! Especially Dominatrice, Nosebleed Nonesense, Yuki Asao who have given me feed back on nearly every chapter. There are quite a few of you who have done the same too and I want you to know it is appreciated! I enjoy continuing this story because I know there are people that like to read it. Thanks guys!


	10. Chapter 10: Shouldn't Have Done That

Chapter 10: You really shouldn't have done that

Ginny woke up early the next day and was grateful her shift at St. Mungo's was not until the afternoon. Even more so she was grateful she did not have to call out again at the coffee shop because she was not scheduled for any shifts. She wasn't entirely sure if this really was good or not, but it saved her from having to make the call herself. So many things had been going through her brain since the night before as she tried to make sense of the upside down mess that had become her life. Only one reason, one true fault, could have credit as the cause of all of it. Draco Malfoy, that rotten son of a bitch. He was the reason everything was turning out so horribly.

If she was going to see Draco again it was going to be on her own terms and he certainly was not going to be happy about it. She was going to make damn sure of that fact. She convinced herself that all she needed to do was see him one time, let him have a good tongue lashing for the mess he made, and then she could go about putting the pieces of her life back in order. Of course she was still very cross with Harry for having struck her. He had no right to do such a thing. However, he wasn't a horrible person. Ginny knew Harry and he was actually very kind. He saved the world from evil for Merlin's sake! He couldn't be an awful person. No, this was all the fault of Draco, and he was going to know it very soon.

Ginny dressed herself in comfortable clothing as she knew her afternoon was going to be rounds at the hospital and there might not be time to change before her shift. She also had no reason to dress up for Malfoy. That lousy git didn't deserve it. The thought having even crossed her mind was completely ridiculous. Dropping in on Draco unannounced was business only. The visit would be treated as nothing more.

It was easy enough to remember the way to Draco's studio space. She very much doubted she would ever be able to forget with all the mental trauma it had caused her. The only thing she was going to have to think about was how she was going to get into the building. Like most buildings the front door was key only unless you rung the bell of someone you knew and they buzzed you in.

Just as she was coming up the steps to the building with the ironwork she remembered so vividly a woman was exiting and even kind enough to pause to hold the door open for her. It must have been Ginny's lucky day. She thanked the woman and let the door thud closed behind her. The sound was like her determination to confront Draco.

She took a deep breath as she traveled up the stairs and to the studio door. Gathering all of her resolve she tested her boldness and simply tried the doorknob to see if it was open. Her good fortune continued as the door swung open easily. She took a quick inventory of the room and saw most of the equipment that had been there on her first visit was packed away to one side, the window's curtains pulled back letting in as much natural light as possible. She spotted Draco immediately at the desk near the front of the large studio. He was looking down at what she assumed were photographs in his hands, but she hardly cared about them. The studio door closed behind her as she strode with purpose to where Draco sat in the desk chair.

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" She started off her rant by pushing his chair back so he was forced to notice her directly. "You can't just show up to an apartment unannounced and start fights with people's boyfriends while throwing invitations about!"

Draco was completely taken aback by the sudden appearance of Ginny. Someone he had not expected to see again, and if he did see her he assumed it certainly would not have been so soon. The moment he realized who it was in his studio he instinctively turned the photographs in his hands over and put them face down on the desk. Any surprise or curiosity he might have had regarding the ginger girl was kept to himself.

"Do you have any idea the type of trouble you've caused me?" She continued on with a clear note of anger to her voice. "You've pretty much ruined my relationship and now my family is going to know about the photos you took of me and that's going to cause a load of trouble I don't need in the least. Why do you constantly have to ruin people's lives? What is it about you Malfoy's that makes you think you can just do whatever the hell you want, whenever you want, and get away with it?" She could feel the skin on the back of her neck and cheeks becoming hotter the longer she yelled at him.

Draco could not bring himself to interrupt her since she seemed so intent on yelling at him. He was however starting to smirk as she started to turn redder like a little summer tomato.

"Why didn't you know Weasley?" He said with a smirk once she'd finally paused to take a breath. "I'm Draco 'Destroyer of Relationships' Malfoy. It's very lucrative."

Ginny did not find this funny at all. She was ready to sock him right in the face. "Oh that's hilarious Malfoy. For your next trick are you going to drop in on my parents and tell them I'm on birth control?" The moment the words left her mouth the parts of her that weren't red from anger were now flush with embarrassment at having just said that out loud.

Draco grinned completely amused.

"Oh, SHUT UP Malfoy!" She felt like she was red from head to toe, her entire body radiating angry embarrassment. She felt her hands ball up.

'I didn't say a word Weasley," he sounded highly amused.

"You're horrible!" She raised her hand to slap him across the face. Just as it was coming down its path was suddenly stopped. Draco had caught her hand at the wrist.

"Now, now that's not very nice." Draco drawled as if entirely bored though his eyes said otherwise.

In their murky grey depths Ginny read interest, excitement, and perhaps even curiosity. She stared at him for a moment; surprised he had caught her before realizing he hadn't let her go either.

"I haven't done anything to you," he continued. "In fact-"

"That's a lie," she interrupted him wiggling her wrist out of his grasp, "I wouldn't be here if you had done nothing."

He rose an eyebrow at her, "Is that so? Why **are** you here then? Enlighten me." He rested back in his chair putting a little distance between himself and her. He steeped his fingers together while his elbows rested on the chair's arms. Expectantly he awaited her reply.

Ginny didn't like how calm he seemed to be about this entire thing. She'd practically broken into his studio to get at him and he was acting like this was a civil discussion. "I'm here to yell at you for causing me trouble. I didn't come into **your** house and mess up **your** life! You don't even know the fight that Harry and I had because of you."

A sour look crossed Draco's face. "Oh heaven forbid something happen to make the great Potter's life a little difficult." He stood up from his chair. Ginny never realized how tall he was before. "I'll remind you Weasley that I didn't **make** you do anything. You chose to accept me taking pictures of you and it sounds to me like you even knew who I was at the time. So really I should be questioning you about **your** motives in **my** affairs." He bent close to her, eyes narrowed. "How about it Weasley. Why did you show up on my doorstep ready to take money from me?" He sneered a little, "Are you that bad off you need multiple identities to make ends meet?" He paused, "or is that just how you get off?"

Fresh anger coursed through her veins. "You are an awful person!"

"You don't know anything about me," he corrected her coldly.

"Hah!" she laughed right in his face. "I know enough to see what kind of git you are. What the hell do the Malfoy's really use this studio for? Something seedy I bet."

Something in Draco shifted and he said his next words with actual anger. "You better be careful about your next words Weasley. You really don't know a single thing about me."

Ginny could sense the change in his voice but she couldn't bring herself to feel caution. "No really tell me what it is you do in here other than photograph naked girls. Was I just one of the lucky ones that got out without scaring?"

Draco took a few steps toward her. She saw him coming and backed away. He followed her until she was backed against one of the windows. He didn't bother to give her any personal space. This was not about being an arms length distance from everything. This was about proving a point.

His hands were on either side of her body on the windowsill as she pressed her back against the glass in an attempt to put more space between them. Ginny stared at him without fear, without anything other than the anger she'd shown before, almost as if she was daring him to do something. She looked up at him with the deep brown eyes he'd seen even in his sleep.

"You want me to be this awful person," he said in a steady voice as he leaned over her. "But the truth is you're used to all these ideals that are hanging on by the tiniest thread. So ready to snap if even the slightest bit of pressure is applied." His eyes had not moved away from hers as he kept speaking, "it doesn't even matter where it comes from. You've got this fragile little life." He leaned closer to her and she glared at him as he kept talking. "It's easier if it's all my fault, if I'm the big bad wolf to your little straw house. Doesn't matter that your house is shite. Doesn't matter that the little piggy you're hiding with doesn't really give a fuck about you."

A slap was the only sound that rang out next as Draco's words were cut off. Ginny's hand had made hard contact with his face. He could feel the sting and he was sure there would be a red mark later. Neither of them broke eye contact. Ginny could feel the sting in her hand from the slap.

There was no telling what came over him in the next moment. Before he would even fully process the action he closed the distance between them and kissed her hard. She squeaked with surprise but he was certain that for a moment she welcomed him just before the shock wore off and she broke away.

"Fuck you Malfoy." She breathed heavily as she glared at him. She pushed him away from her and quickly gathered her purse from the floor. Not even realizing she had dropped it before now. She left without looking back. Feeling more frustrated and pissed off than when she had arrived.

Draco watched her exit. When she was gone he traveled back to the desk where the over turned photos still lay face down. He took the small handful back into his hands and turned them face up. Ginny's masked face stared back at him unmoving.

A/N: I hope the new chapter was enjoyable! It was a long time coming, I know. Thank you for reading (:


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